


o vše je třeba dbát, co věčné být má

by armethaumaturgy



Series: Left Hand AU [5]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Dust (Dusttale) - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Nightmare (Dreamtale) - Freeform, SOUL care, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29738166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armethaumaturgy/pseuds/armethaumaturgy
Summary: Nightmare beckoned him closer, so Dust took a step forward, only to be yanked into the extra chair kept by the table by one of his tentacles. "What brings you to me tonight?"Dust hesitated, glancing off to the side to look at his brother for a moment. "I— Cross."
Relationships: Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Series: Left Hand AU [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2181261
Comments: 14
Kudos: 113





	o vše je třeba dbát, co věčné být má

**Author's Note:**

> set just hours after [nemusíš se doslova klanět](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29704098), the aftermath of cross' help.
> 
> title taken from ewa farna's "na ostří nože", because i guess i decided these are all named after lines of the song

Three knocks, quiet but quick, came from the door. Nightmare set his pen down, tentacles flicking behind him, out of his control for the moment.

He didn't need to see to know who was at the door.

"Come in, Dust."

The door opened and Dust slipped inside, closing the door with a loud thud when his hand jerked. He looked as miserable as he felt; the acrid aftertaste of his emotions had been lingering in the castle for hours by now, and Nightmare had been waiting to see when he'd show up. It was a veritable maelstrom in him, a concoction of acidic confusion, salty sadness and hot anger, all melting down to replace the usual taste of guilt and apathy.

Dust had ever appeared apathetic, keeping his face blank save for the heat of the battle and when he desired something, but there was none of that to be found now. His eyelights were but tiny pinpricks, shoulders hunched up to make him appear even smaller than he was. He fidgeted in place, arms tensing to show he was clenching and unclenching his fists in his pockets.

"Hey, boss."

Nightmare beckoned him closer, so Dust took a step forward, only to be yanked into the extra chair kept by the table by one of his tentacles. "What brings you to me tonight?"

Dust hesitated, glancing off to the side to look at his brother for a moment. "I— Cross."

Of course. Nightmare knew, for there was nothing else that could've caused Dust such an emotional shift. It was payoff for the contentment Dust enjoyed last night, and a side effect of not being overcharged with magic for once. If he were being honest (which he wasn't), Nightmare was a little ticked that he hadn't thought of making Dust tire himself out through a battle himself, or first.

Like with all of his boys, Nightmare had assumed Dust would know what was best for him. And Dust knew what he wanted. There was always calm emanating from him afterwards, and naively, he'd assumed that was as good as it got. It wouldn't be a mistake he'd make again.

"Yes? What about him?"

"I…" Dust turned a glare at the wall, his browbones switching between furrowed and frowning. "He… scares me."

The admission felt heavy. It was bold and it was uncharacteristic, underlined in panic, thrice over. Dust screwed his sockets closed, wincing as if he was already being yelled at.

"He confuses you more, isn't that it?" Nightmare said, a little softer than he meant to, perhaps, but Dust refused to meet his level gaze, even for a moment, with his sockets still closed, and shoulders trembling.

"Yeah…" There was a tremor in his voice.

The silence felt heavy between them, as well. Suffocating, choking— Dust was crying. A part of Nightmare reveled in the volatile cocktail to feast upon, while another knew he had to do something or the other would be useless. And maybe there was a part that detested seeing him like this, too, a note that hit maybe a bit too close for comfort.

"It's too—" Dust choked out, finally opening his sockets and looking at Nightmare. "So much— You can take it away— can't you? You take Killer's away when he's— take them— Please take them."

Nightmare's tentacles flicked behind him, all too ready to burst forth and wrap around the  ~~ tasty snack ~~ skeleton before him. It wasn't a secret, not by any stretch of the imagination, that he made a banquet of Killer when prompted to, but Dust had never asked for the same treatment.

"Your emotions?" he asked, in lieu of the real question he wanted to ask, but wouldn't let himself.

"Yeah, it's— it's too much. Please, boss— I—"

There wasn't much coherency to be found in the pleas, but it was enough, Nightmare reasoned. He stood and circled the desk, his tentacles already finding themselves wound around Dust, through the empty spaces between his tibias and fibulas and over his shaking arms.

He was offered the SOUL without asking for it, a soft glow that was unbefitting to the skeleton, too dim. He took it in hand, and Dust went a little more slack, all but melting into the chair.

With a soft sigh, he coaxed the tired magic, breaking through the barrier of the shell with a single phalange. Dust's faded lilac mixed with tar black, the emotions given form at Nightmare's command.

It was thick, viscous as it poured out the broken hole, and Nightmare brought it up to his mouth to lick up. At the first touch of his conjured tongue, Dust shivered, quickly falling slack again as more and more of it was drawn out. His eyelights hazed over and he was mumbling something, far too quiet and disjointed to be aimed at him. The emotions tasted exactly as they had from afar, but so much stronger.

A tentacle stroked over Dust's twitching fingers.

He pulled away when there was no more to be had, and returned the SOUL back. It looked almost like Horror's, now, barely a speck of Dust's magic left in the center. He knew it would be back to normal within a day or two, and that was the only reason he'd agreed.

Somewhere along the line, Dust had fallen quiet, staring blankly ahead with those same hazed eyelights. It didn't look like his usual impassive expression, mostly because it wasn't curated. He looked like an animated corpse, even disregarding him being a skeleton in the first place.

"Thank you," he said as the SOUL faded from view, and it was flat and lacked any tone. Nightmare merely nodded.

"My pleasure. You are dismissed."

And off Dust went, when Nightmare's tentacles let him go. His movements were mechanical, left foot, right foot, stop, raise hand, open door, left foot, right foot.

Nightmare couldn't quite place how he felt watching him leave, but there were still remnants of the emotional tar clinging to his palate, so it didn't matter much. For years, they were used to the castle working one way, and Nightmare couldn't fault Dust for finding Cross' meddling confusing.

Or scary, as he'd said.

He didn't see it as bad, though, no. Not even he was omnipotent, as strong as he was. Once Dust's emotions stabilized, he might find himself agreeing.

None of the other ones had come to him with complaints, and he could feel the little bursts of surprised joy, or content here and there, borne in Cross' wake. His presence was beneficial to the castle.

And the team has been working better lately.

Nightmare couldn't complain either.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on twitter @esqers


End file.
